Light And Shadow
by momoxtoshiro
Summary: It wasn't difficult to recognize the signs of discomfort. Blake had curled in on herself, her breathing ragged, eyebrows knitted tightly. Her ears were pressed flat against her scalp, as though they'd been ironed, pinned down indefinitely. But what concerned Weiss the most were the little whimpers that kept tumbling past her lips, excerpts of apologies mixed with her own name.


**An inevitable little something after seeing vol 2 ch 11. Kind of an "after-the-battle" scene. Starts with Blake lying in bed.**

**Dedicated to Monica (dashingicecream) for her art/story trade with me!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.**

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><p>Light And Shadow<p>

It was something that haunted Blake's already troubled nightmares for weeks to come.

That day.

She could still see it just as accurately as if she were experiencing it, over and over again before her very eyes.

She could hear it, the raucous brutality with which Weiss had been thrown – tossed – into the next train car, her body thudding dully as she rolled, slamming into the cold, unforgiving metal again and again. She could hear the stymying little grunts of pain, likely more akin to whimpers, fleeting from Weiss' lungs and past her pale lips - small, weak sounds drowned out by the insistent clattering of the train.

If not for her acute Faunus hearing, Blake never would have picked up on those sounds.

But she had, and she could still imagine the breathlessness Weiss must have suffered, the limpness, the helplessness that the detrimental lapse of a single second had brought her.

Blake hadn't needed to be there to see the heiress' fight to know how valiant, how tenacious it had been. She hadn't needed to be there to witness the angelic grace with which her teammate had moved; nimble leaps more agile than any feline, precise strikes more swift and powerful than any bombardment of gunshots, parries and blocks that were unparalleled and incomparable in terms of sheer skill.

Disadvantaged as she was against such an opponent, Weiss had stayed there to allow Blake to go on ahead, so she could have her revenge against Roman Torchwick.

A furious kick to the face was as good as she'd get, but it was still damn satisfying enough to hold Blake over for a while now.

After all she'd suffered, Blake believed she'd gotten enough vengeance that day out of that one kick alone.

But she could still see the images of Weiss lying still on the floor of the speeding train.

She'd only been fast enough to spare the heiress one last hard hit, cradling her head in a silent apology for having let things get this dire.

She could still feel the faint breath in Weiss' straining lungs as Blake had lifted her, hoisted her nearly paralyzed body into her arms and dashed madly for safety.

Even where Blake had brought them hadn't been all that safe; had Weiss not woken when she did, she wouldn't have been able to protect the team in a barrier of ice when the train crashed through the dead end of the tunnels in a concussive explosion.

Blake didn't even dare to remember the battle that followed.

It was too much to recall, too much to dwell on. She didn't need to dig up all the screams she'd heard, all the blood she'd seen spilled - human, Grimm, or Faunus.

Successful for her side as the fight may have been, she wasn't ready to reflect on it yet.

Despite the utter chaos, her team and her friends were all still alive; that was all she needed to remember. Recovery wouldn't come if she kept drowning herself in "what ifs" and other terrible scenarios that hadn't happened.

Her mind was weighted with enough regrets, darkened with enough shadows from her esoteric past; she didn't need these as well.

She'd hoped lying in bed would help dissuade the harmful memories, and for the most part it did.

All except that one scene.

She didn't understand why she couldn't shake it away, why it kept clinging to the corner of her mind with such desperation.

Was it because Weiss had nearly died for the sake of Blake's personal revenge?

That was the only plausible answer she could settle upon.

That was the knowledge that built up waves of guilt upon her, surging and heaving up before crashing over her like a rampant ocean tide.

Being alone in the room didn't help either.

The four of them were still recuperating from the massive Grimm battle and its repercussions.

Ruby and Yang had opted to get out of bed and stretch their legs, start gaining back a bit of muscle and work out the kinks and soreness. Weiss had hobbled to the shower, and Blake kept an ear fixated on the water, making sure there was nothing unusual, no slip-ups or loud sounds to elicit alarm from her.

She knew Weiss wasn't far, only across the room from where Blake lay.

But she also knew the harrowing thoughts might stop molesting her if she had a distraction.

A friend.

Another swirling surge of guilt left her choking back sobs, curling onto her side and burying her face into the cool fabrics of her pillow.

It was already damp.

It was an agonizing process to fall asleep again, and Blake succumbed unwillingly, fearful of what horrible, enmeshing nightmares might snare her this time around.

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><p>Weiss wasn't fairing too well in the shower.<p>

Despite the heat of the water and the white towel she kept around herself, all she could do was shiver.

The same memories tormented her, though she was unaware of how badly they were affecting Blake as well.

Weiss was worried about her teammate, much more so than she was for herself or any of the others. It was only their second day back, and Weiss knew none of them had slept well last night.

But in the long hours she'd laid awake, Weiss had heard Blake tossing and turning, trapped in sleep that the heiress imagined was much worse than being burdened by conscious thought.

She was no stranger to night terrors, how they'd scavenge for any and every scrap of insecurity a person's past let linger, snowballing it into an avalanche of malice until it crushed them.

Blake seemed particularly prone to such vulnerabilities.

Presently, something felt off, and that inkling of discomfort was what drove Weiss to rinse her hair out quickly before shutting off the water. She moved stiffly as she dried herself, trying not to remember all of the bruised bones that were still healing, all the blood that had coated her body only a few days ago. She knew it would require a few more showers before those stains of crimson were finally washed down the drain for good.

It was no easy task to slip back into her clothes; her nightgown was a struggle, and by the time she'd made herself decent, she was slightly breathless. The thought of toiling with the hair dryer was exhausting, and she didn't bother for once. Instead, she pulled a fresh towel around her shoulders, sparing her back the dampness her hair would inevitably shed.

A cough, and it was one of many to follow. She stifled them into her towel until they'd died down; she'd never been one to bemoan her injuries more than what they were worth.

It was with a fearful tremble in her hand that she pulled the fabrics away from her mouth, fearing she'd see blood again.

She blinked, and for an instant she thought it was reality.

But there was no pungent scent, no rustic taste of it, and the heiress soon convinced herself it was all in her head.

She opened the door, letting some of the steam from the shower float out as she leaned against the wall, taking one step at a time to lead her back to bed. It was a slow process, but it was liberating somehow, some of her first steps on the path to recovery, as much of a mirage as that concept seemed to be.

Ruby and Yang were still gone as was the dog, and Weiss' bed offered an alluring promise of slumber she had no hopes of resisting.

Until she heard the sharp little gasps coming from Blake's bed.

Weiss limped a little faster until she reached the beds, ignoring her own to peer into that of her teammate's.

It wasn't difficult to recognize the signs of discomfort. Blake had curled in on herself, her breathing ragged, eyebrows knitted tightly. Her ears were pressed flat against her scalp, as though they'd been ironed, _pinned_ down indefinitely.

But what concerned Weiss the most were the little whimpers that kept tumbling past her lips, excerpts of apologies mixed with her own name.

"Weiss... no... sorry..."

The heiress sat down on the edge of the bed, welcoming the support after standing for so long. A flare of anxiety rose up within her and she reached forward, fingers tentative, uncertain as they drifted down to ghost over Blake's cheek.

Weiss caught a few of the tears before her hand trailed over Blake's shoulder, then up through her frazzled hair.

She was torn between the desire to wake the girl and spare her the nightmares, or to allow her to get as much rest as possible and simply settle for praying that the haunting images would be exchanged for kinder ones.

But it was quickly made clear that Weiss wouldn't be the one to decide such a thing.

It started with another whimper, and Blake flinched in her sleep, curling in on herself defensively.

Not a second later - before Weiss could do anything by means of helping her - it'd turned into a choked gasp, and Blake's eyes flew wide open, startled and fearful, her ears trembling. She looked dizzy even though she hadn't moved from the bed, her eyes glazed as they met Weiss' instantly. Her voice rasped, tone thick with terror.

"Weiss..."

The heiress cupped Blake's tearstained cheek, sliding closer to the Faunus girl. Weiss' other hand moved to tend to her onyx tresses, curling soft locks delicately.

"Blake? It's alright. It was just a dream. You're alright."

She spoke to soothe, but it didn't seem to have the effect she'd intended.

There was a small spark of clarity in Blake's eyes, but it wasn't enough to spare her more trembling breaths.

"I'm alright..." she repeated. "But you... Weiss, they... they _killed you_..."

Weiss inhaled sharply before blinking slowly, holding Blake's gaze.

"No they didn't. I'm right here. I'm fine, Blake. We both are. We _all_ are."

And Blake wanted to believe her, but it was hard. Too many times she'd been told by images - ghosts - of people she loved that they were alright, still alive, only to find _that_ had been the dream. There was never any proof of what was reality and what was a nightmare, and she couldn't accept Weiss' words right now.

Her mind was one for elaborate hoaxes even in her subconscious state of mind, and it seemed to taunt her relentlessly every chance it got.

She needed something more than just words.

The cool hands on her face and ears helped a little, and she found herself looking up into those familiar blue eyes, into Weiss' very soul.

She was alive.

She was right here.

Blake wanted to believe that more than anything.

But she just didn't trust herself.

Weiss had been waiting for her, but the heiress' heart throbbed when she saw Blake's response. The Faunus girl shook her head, too incredulous, too scared to believe it all.

"I'm sorry..." she sobbed. "I don't know what to believe anymore..."

Her words told Weiss everything she needed to know. They told her how hopelessly lost Blake was within the twisting confines of her own mind, her own overriding doubts.

Weiss had to wonder how many people she'd lost in all her years and came to the conclusion that it was probably close to the same number Weiss herself had lost.

But the two of them had been raised differently; Weiss coped with her fears differently, in a way that didn't present such devastating results to her psyche.

Blake obviously wasn't so lucky.

Weiss could sympathize, or at the very least try to. She needed to prove it to Blake that everything was alright.

Slowly, Weiss pulled her legs up onto the bed, wincing at a few pangs of stiffness, but ultimately ignoring the pain. She laid down beside Blake, pulling the covers over them both and willing Blake to focus on the comfort.

Blake jolted, her mind discombobulated from fatigue and sleep-deprivation, unsure of what to make of all this. She couldn't find the line between reality and nightmare, and wasn't sure how to react to Weiss' sudden proximity.

Weiss didn't force her closer, but instead opened her arms invitingly, patiently.

"Blake, please. Let me help."

The Faunus girl was skeptical, something that had become a trademark of hers over the years, and her ears swiveled in confusion.

But something she couldn't quite place compelled her to move forward, slowly as it was.

Weiss was relieved that the girl trusted _her_ above her own fears.

"There..." she breathed, and her arms wrapped loosely around Blake's shoulders. "You're safe. I've got you, Blake."

Weiss pulled her in, and Blake was encompassed by her warmth, a warmth she never thought the heiress possessed.

Tentatively, she slipped an arm around Weiss' waist, needing to feel for herself. Weiss' stomach rose and fell gently against her own, and Blake relaxed when she felt her breathing.

She settled closer, and one of her ears pressed to Weiss' chest. Her heartbeat filled Blake's ears, ringing with a gentle fervor, a silent declaration that Weiss was _alive_.

Blake whimpered in relief, moving closer to listen, to prove to herself this was real. She closed her eyes and her voice slipped out again.

"...Weiss?"

A soft scratch at the base of each ear had them both lifting up.

"I'm here, Blake. I'm right here. You're awake, and this isn't a dream. I promise."

Blake nodded against her, and Weiss was relieved to find the Faunus girl was more relaxed now.

She didn't need anymore cues than that.

Weiss' voice left her lungs in a soft lullaby, a melody that brought fresh tears to Blake's eyes almost instantly. But they were the good kind of tears – the _best_ kind.

She couldn't help but purr, the rumbles pressing against Weiss' stomach as Blake continued to listen to her song, her heartbeat. She immersed herself in those lovely sounds, savoring them for all they were worth.

She thought Weiss had managed to disillusion her at long last.

But evidently, the darker, greedier recesses of her mind wouldn't let her rest so easily.

The second Weiss' song ended, Blake imaged her pulse stopped as well.

She tensed immediately, squeezing the heiress to her as images of red on white flashed cruelly through her mind. Her voice was timid and desperate, breathing ragged:

"Weiss...?"

"Blake."

She didn't miss a beat. Her voice was a reassurance despite the tricks Blake's mind was playing on her. Weiss pushed her teammate back carefully, fingers curling through her hair...

Blake's eyes fluttered open, hazy and exhausted. She feared sleep and the nightmares it would bring her, feared she'd be trapped and never released. Another shudder ran through her, and not even Weiss' truthful eyes could help Blake now.

"Weiss..." A thin whisper, and she swallowed hard. "I don't know... what to do. I can't make it stop. Every time I close my eyes... you're dead... and it's _my fault_..." More tears spilled down her cheeks in rivulets, running over the dried trails Weiss had cleared for her earlier. "I don't know what I can do..."

Helpless.

That was what Blake was.

Vulnerable to her own mind, a victim of herself.

And Weiss vowed to save her.

She slid down until their faces were level, and Weiss bore her gaze into Blake's. With her eyes, she asked all she needed to ask, and Blake gave her answers.

It was surreal, profound-

-and yet everything was unmistakable.

There was something in the gaze that each of them saw, something that was different and yet the same. It was the reality in front of them now, how the other's presence wasn't just a convenience, but a requirement.

It made Blake realize why she feared Weiss' death above all others.

It made Weiss realize why she went to Blake first, before any of the others.

They'd only been together for a few months, and yet, given their connected histories, it felt like much longer than that.

This wasn't just a whim, nor was it a frivolous act to provide some form of much-needed comfort.

This was what they'd both needed for a while now, from no one but each other.

Palms caressed Blake's cheeks and Weiss' sides.

Neither initiated, but neither held back.

Their lips came together in a fearless kiss, one without regrets or uncertainties. Of all the things they'd hesitated on in their lives up until this point, this wasn't one of them.

They both wanted this.

They both needed this.

Not only to feel alright and to make the nightmares stop, but to _survive_.

Like two sides of a coin, they needed one another.

Like night and day, they needed one another.

Like light and shadow, they needed one another.

To live.

To breathe.

To _exist_.

Their shared breath came to an end, and they parted.

They didn't need words anymore. Just the looks in their eyes, the gentle touches over cheeks and through hair, the quiet breaths.

Neither of them were scared of this - not anymore. This seemed to be all they could both be certain about.

Blake sent her a silent request, for just one more. Weiss obliged, moving her lips against hers, trapping a warm breath of air between them.

The heiress pulled back and yet lingered, her breath light and dragging against Blake's lips. It was that breath that encouraged Blake forward to take one more kiss from her, softly, carefully.

And Weiss let her, giving all she could and taking what she wanted.

They both did; it was one of the few times in their lives when they could be greedy.

Luckily, they were both very generous as well.

The kisses continued – a fourth, a fifth – until they'd lost count, until they didn't _care_ anymore.

Neither knew exactly what this meant, but it was something worthwhile, something they both accepted-

-something they could worry about in the morning.

Because right now was too perfect to disrupt with too much thinking.

At least, it was reassuring to know neither was opposed to it.

One final kiss, and then their eyes closed as they curled into one another, warmth blanketing around them.

It no longer mattered who _her_ father was or what _she'd_ done in her past.

Soft breathing, gentle, matching heartbeats – that was all that mattered now.

Everything else could come later.

For now they rested, nestled in one another's warmth and perhaps something even more powerful than that, something they'd communicated yet left unspoken.

Silence fell at last, and they both slept soundly for the first time in as long as either could remember.

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><p><strong>AN: Not a single regret for writing this. You'll get the usual fic tomorrow and another on Halloween!**

**Please review!**


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